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@clark-kent-offical
Hello! My name's Clark Kent, and I'm a reporter at @the-daily-planet-offical!
One of my coworkers, who has requested to remain anonymous for a reason I don't really understand, had me join.
He/Him is fine!
I'm not too great at social media, so I'm sorry if I do not understand some things :(
OOC:
i got bored and found out no one made clark yet. so. um. I did. YAHOOOOO!
TAG STUFF:
🚜🗞️: in character
✉️: ooc
📝 response: asks !!!
Reblog if you're an Active RP Blog
// sorry for not posting for a while ,,, ive had zero ideas what to post . also, i graduate in exactly a week, so ive been busy w school. just wanted to say i didnt forget abt this account!
// brucie mod here @brucie-wayne-offical
Bruce showing up at the Daily Planet office simultaneously sleep deprived as hell and still under the effects of whatever the rogues did (probably fear gas) and just sits in Clark's lap and passes out
Bc he feels safest with Clark so in order to rest he needed to be near Clark and once he is he just conks out
That's it that's the ask. Thinking about this.
// imagining clark going on just doing whatever he needs to @ his desk not even batting an eye while the rest of the dp is varying levels of surprised bc WHY is THE bruce wayne there. you got something on ur lap there, clark.
// literally exactly, everyone's so confused bc Bruce Wayne, notoriously hates the press, just walked into the office and sat in one of their coworkers lap
And Clark just is not phased by it at all XD
//so Tumblr hates me and did not notify for some reason I like JUST SAW THIS. but like exactly. I feel like someone would question it all "clark.... What... he hates us what is he doing" and he deflects with "shhhhh..... Hes sleeping......"
// brucie mod here @brucie-wayne-offical
Bruce showing up at the Daily Planet office simultaneously sleep deprived as hell and still under the effects of whatever the rogues did (probably fear gas) and just sits in Clark's lap and passes out
Bc he feels safest with Clark so in order to rest he needed to be near Clark and once he is he just conks out
That's it that's the ask. Thinking about this.
// imagining clark going on just doing whatever he needs to @ his desk not even batting an eye while the rest of the dp is varying levels of surprised bc WHY is THE bruce wayne there. you got something on ur lap there, clark.
// literally exactly, everyone's so confused bc Bruce Wayne, notoriously hates the press, just walked into the office and sat in one of their coworkers lap
And Clark just is not phased by it at all XD
//so Tumblr hates me and did not notify for some reason I like JUST SAW THIS. but like exactly. I feel like someone would question it all "clark.... What... he hates us what is he doing" and he deflects with "shhhhh..... Hes sleeping......"
// brucie mod here @brucie-wayne-offical
Bruce showing up at the Daily Planet office simultaneously sleep deprived as hell and still under the effects of whatever the rogues did (probably fear gas) and just sits in Clark's lap and passes out
Bc he feels safest with Clark so in order to rest he needed to be near Clark and once he is he just conks out
That's it that's the ask. Thinking about this.
// imagining clark going on just doing whatever he needs to @ his desk not even batting an eye while the rest of the dp is varying levels of surprised bc WHY is THE bruce wayne there. you got something on ur lap there, clark.
The most wonderful person in my life lives in Gotham, but I am okay with that. It's worth it when I see him <3
Bruce sighs. If he's going to do this, he has to do it now. He has a plan, kind of - of course he does, he's Batman, he always has a plan. But he knows, precisely because he's Batman, that plans rarely ever work out.
But this one is fairly simple. It should be fine. Right?
Dinner is finished, so once Alfred has cleared the table (with help, of course), he stands and sets a hand on the back of Clark's chair. He has to think for a moment.
"Thank you for coming to dinner," he starts with, because he can't just jump into this. "It was good to see you. Now, I believe I mentioned I wanted to talk about something after we ate?"
He's certain Clark can hear the way his heartbeat picks up speed, the slight increase in his breathing. He knows, of course he knows, he figured Clark out months ago, but he'd rather wait for Clark to tell him than say anything. He didn't want Clark to be put off or anxious enough about it to leave or stay away from him. He could wait. He could do this. He just hoped it would work.
Clark's head turned. Increased heart rate. Increased breathing. He noted it all. But was it a heart attack? It more than likely wasn't. Ridiculous, he knew. He adjusted his glasses, very briefly wiping his hands on his legs.
"Dinner's no issue, Mister Wayne. Er, Bruce," he sheepishly corrected himself. "And I do believe you wanted to speak to me about something."
Dear God. Was Bruce going to confront him about the whole Superman thing? Or worse, how it was extremely obvious based off how often he came to Gotham to speak to Bruce that the billionaire knew how he felt about him, and then turn him away forever?
"I'm all ears."
Bruce couldn't help but smile a little at the slip, a soft laugh escaping - god, Clark could be so sweet and cute sometimes. "As I've said, Bruce is just fine, Clark. We've talked far too much outside of work to be using last names." Clark seemed nervous, so he reached out and set a hand on the man's shoulder. It wasn't something he did often, considering that Clark was taller than him. "Relax. It's nothing horrible, I promise."
Relax. What a funny word to use, when he was so anxious himself.
He pulled Clark's chair back and waited for the man to stand, holding out a hand for Clark to take. "I thought you'd be more busy on Valentine's. But it's always nice to see you." He paused for a moment. "There's something I'd like to show you, if you don't mind staying for a bit longer."
"Me? Busy on Valentine's?" Clark chuckled, almost as the assumption was amusing to him. "You're funny, Bruce." He took Bruce's hand as he stood. "I don't mind staying any longer. There's no immediate demand for my return. I made sure to finish everything before I left."
Holding Bruce's hand was an experience he did not think he'd ever get to have. One that, if this was the only time he could ever do so, he would not be forgetting.
He took a deep breath. He felt jittery. He needed to calm down.
"Lead the way, Bruce."
"Well, I can't see why you wouldn't be. Surely there are people who would love to spend the day with you." Me included, Bruce thought, but didn't voice it. "You're very pleasant to be around. Kind. I'm surprised no one has taken you off the market yet." He sharpened his smile just slightly - that tease he used when he was in public, playing up the whole "playboy" persona. If it was more genuine now, no one needed to know.
His grip on Clark's hand tightened, and he turned, glancing around. "It's just down the hall. I'll try not to keep you too long. I'm sure you'd prefer getting home to sleep." He knew Clark didn't really need to sleep, but he wasn't supposed to. No letting anything on quite yet.
He led Clark out of the dining room and down a hallway, each step seeming to take far too much effort. He knew his heart was speeding up again, beating so fast in his chest he felt like it might burst. Somehow, this was almost worse than the actual confession. If Clark was upset at this, then Bruce would lose him completely.
He stopped at a door. From the outside it looked like any other, but as he pulled a special key from his pocket, it became clear it wasn't. The door unlocked with a hydraulic sound, and beyond was a keypad that Bruce quickly entered a code into. Beyond that was a long, dark flight of stairs. The entrance to the Batcave.
He swallowed and turned to look at Clark again. "It's shorter than it looks," he said, almost joking, trying to get rid of some of the tension - more his own than Clark's. He took a step down. There was a faint light at the bottom. "It's nothing nefarious, I promise." He tugged just slightly on Clark's hand, encouraging him to follow - because what would Bruce do if Clark didn't?
"If you... say so." Clark warily looked down the dark hallway, following him.
The further they went, the more Clark pieced it together. He didn't know how her didn't before.
"Goodness, Bruce. You... You're..." He fumbled for the words. "Oh, golly."
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, the main room of the cave was visible. It would have been obvious anyway, but Clark had seen bits and pieces through Justice League calls.
Bruce swallowed again. Somehow it was harder to speak now that Clark knew. "Yeah," he eventually managed, voice a little quieter, fainter. He looked over at Clark, trying to study his face, trying to gauge his reaction. His heart is still pounding, there's a pressure in his chest, but he knows how to ignore it. "I didn't... I didn't know how to tell you. I thought just showing you might be easier."
He didn't know if it was.
"You're... you're Batman, Bruce. I can tell why it'd be hard for you to... um. Say it." Clark managed. "I... wow. This is a lot to take in."
Looking around the cave, he took a breath in. "I just... wow."
His thumb ran over Bruce's hand. He still hadn't let go.
"I'm... I'm honored you trust me enough to tell me this, Bruce."
"Of course I trust you," Bruce said, and he almost regretted it - he wasn't supposed to know Clark's secret yet. There was no reason for Bruce Wayne to trust a random reporter so deeply, even if they were friends. But it was true even without the secret, honestly - there was something about Clark that just put Bruce at ease.
He was like sunshine. Bruce looked at him and felt like as long as he was there, everything would be okay. It wouldn't be a lie to say that being at Clark's side was the safest he'd felt in years, even before he figured out who he was.
He managed a small smile. Something in him relaxed. His heart was still racing, but for an entirely different reason this time. "There... There is one other thing I'd like to talk to you about. But if there's anything you'd like to say first..." He could only imagine what Clark was thinking about, especially with how Superman and Batman usually interacted.
He did have something to say. He knew he had something to say.
"Since you... trust me this much, I suppose I... should tell you as well." Clark cleared his throat. His free hand went to his glasses. He considered just taking them off. His hand twitched, finally grabbing the temple of his glasses, lowering them off his face.
"... I suppose I'm... not quite much of who you thought I was, either."
Bruce paused, and then his smile grew, and he stepped a little closer. There was something about the moment, seeing Clark with the glasses off, revealing himself... It made something warm build in his chest. "Ah." And then there was a little of that tease in his voice again, smile sharpening. Batman couldn't exactly save Bruce Wayne, after all, which meant if something happened while he was out as Bruce... Well, a certain hero would have to swoop in. "It's nice to finally know you, Mister Superman."
His smile softened again, as did his eyes - something more vulnerable, more open. "... Though, I'm not as surprised as you might think. I... I prepare for a lot of eventualities. Including people trying to mask their appearance." But it still felt so nice for it to be true this time. For Clark to show him, for himself. Bruce's chest felt paradoxically both heavy and light, a mix of happiness and nerves. "But... I'm glad you trust me, too. We've worked together for so long, I know how I act, but... You are my friend."
Maybe more.
Bruce shook his head slightly, more at himself than anything. He still had to get there. "I hope you know I don't mind as much as I complain about." He had always been a bit standoffish as Batman, often complaining or denying the friendly, affectionate gestures from Superman. But he did actually enjoy them, he just had an image as Batman - it was important to keep that, so there wouldn't be any suspicion. And there were things that he didn't enjoy... If it wasn't Clark doing them. He always liked it with Clark.
"I suppose it's better for us to know this about each other than not." Clark chuckled. "It's better to be open about this. I think... I think it'd make us better people. Better partners."
Possibly more.
"You had something else to tell me?"
He was more nervous. One, it wasn't the whole Superman thing. But now? Now he had no clue what it was about. It freaked him out. Maybe he knew. Maybe he knew Clark had fallen for him, and after this moment, everything would go downhill. But... Bruce wouldn't have told him about this if he was planning to push him away. He was making things up in his head.
Bruce took a breath. He could feel his heart beating faster once more, just after he'd started to calm. He knew Clark could hear it, and that wasn't a secret anymore. But for a moment he was frozen, unsure of how to do this. He couldn't find the words, his tongue felt frozen - he didn't know what to say. Would it be better to just say it? To try and ease into it before confessing?
"I-" He tried to speak, but only gave a few false starts; the words wouldn't come. He looked at Clark, eyes just a tad wider as slate blue met sky, and once again he was filled with a desire he often had. He didn't know what came over him, but one moment he was standing there, frozen, and the next he was grabbing Clark's shirt and pulling the man in. If he couldn't get the words out, maybe actions would work, maybe Bruce could just give in and-
-and kiss him.
Oh.
Oh.
That's what he wanted. That's what he wanted to talk to him about. And it was... so much nicer than he expected. Gentle. Much more than he expected it to be when it came to Bruce. Not in a bad way.
It took him a moment before he leaned into it, his hand going to Bruce's waist.
A moment he never wanted to end.
Bruce didn't want it to end either. He practically melted into the touch, his body leaning into Clark's until he was resting his weight firmly on the taller man. His arms draped loosely around Clark, a low hum leaving him. It was safe. It was warm. It was loving. It was gentle. Bruce was sure this was the greatest moment of his life.
This was heaven.
He only broke the kiss when he finally ran out of air, pulling back but still leaning into Clark. He leaned his head against Clark's shoulder, breathing heavier, but warm. For a moment he didn't know what to say.
Eventually, he lifted his head slightly, his voice coming out quiet. Almost faint. "Was that okay...?"
Clark smiled, resting his forehead against Bruce's.
"It was more than okay. It was wonderful."
His hand went to the man's cheek, gently caressing Bruce's cheek. "I was actually... pretty worried you didn't feel the same way about me."
A pause, then a sheepish chuckle.
"It sounds a little of ridiculous now that I say it aloud, though."
Bruce let out a soft, contented sigh, leaning into the touch almost instinctively. The feeling of Clark's hand was something he'd barely dared to dream of. He almost seemed to nuzzle into it, smiling softly. Oh, this was amazing. He didn't know the last time he'd felt like this. So warm and safe and... And loved.
"It's not ridiculous," he murmured, and then quieter, "... I was nervous too."
His eyes fluttered, but then met Clark's again, and for a moment he was breathless just staring at that beautiful face. He didn't know how to ask, asking Clark to be his boyfriend was just... It felt too light? It didn't feel right for them. "Are we...?"
That was kind of the question he dreaded. Putting a label on it immediately felt a little overwhelming to him. He had to slow down.
"We can be. If you want. Um, unless you're- you're also seeing other people. I mean, I'm not, but I'm certain many people want... you." Clark struggled to string it together.
"I mean, I'd be okay if we... started dating. Maybe I'd hold off on all the interviews with you. Conflict of interest. I'd be biased. Not that I wasn't already. But I was better at not showing it through writing before this."
Bruce made another soft hum, smiling at the way Clark stumbled over his words. God, he loved this dork. "No, I'm not seeing anyone else. I wouldn't be interested in any of them anyway... Despite the public persona, that isn't really my thing." He wasn't really... Well, he didn't like doing anything like that if there weren't feelings involved. And he had been hesitant to get in a relationship, considering... Y'know. Batman and all.
"I don't mind if you don't want to label it," he said softly. "Calling you my boyfriend feels... Weird. You mean a lot to me. Beyond just that. I'd just... Like to have you. To be able to do things like this. Be together." He laughs softly. "Though, I'll miss having my personal reporter. The rest are like vultures."
"I think not labeling it works out the best for us. Right now, at least," Clark inhaled. "It's all still... new. Romantic relationships are still beyond my understanding. Overwhelming, I suppose."
He thought for a moment. "I do like us being together. It feels... right." The smile that crossed his face was pure joy.
"And about that reporter thing... honest journalism is my thing. You'll find another that isn't a vulture."
Bruce laughed a little, holding on just a tad tighter. "I... I'm a bit surprised, honestly. You seem like the perfect partner. Kind, gentle, respectful... Though, I guess that makes me lucky. I can't imagine anyone letting go of you once they have you, so maybe I should consider it lucky that I got to you first." He averted his gaze though his eyes were still open, his smile somewhat shy. "To be honest... This is my first real relationship too. I'm good at acting, but... None of it is really genuine."
He pressed his face into Clark's shoulder then, a soft noise leaving him; he liked Clark's smell. Coffee and warmth and ink, yet still with a hint of grass and hay he couldn't quite shake. It was nice. It was peaceful. "Together, then. You and me."
The last part made him smile a little more, but his only hummed in agreement, giving Clark another little squeeze. He felt... Safe. But not just safe, it was different. Like something had slotted into place in his chest. Like this was where he was meant to be.
Bruce sighs. If he's going to do this, he has to do it now. He has a plan, kind of - of course he does, he's Batman, he always has a plan. But he knows, precisely because he's Batman, that plans rarely ever work out.
But this one is fairly simple. It should be fine. Right?
Dinner is finished, so once Alfred has cleared the table (with help, of course), he stands and sets a hand on the back of Clark's chair. He has to think for a moment.
"Thank you for coming to dinner," he starts with, because he can't just jump into this. "It was good to see you. Now, I believe I mentioned I wanted to talk about something after we ate?"
He's certain Clark can hear the way his heartbeat picks up speed, the slight increase in his breathing. He knows, of course he knows, he figured Clark out months ago, but he'd rather wait for Clark to tell him than say anything. He didn't want Clark to be put off or anxious enough about it to leave or stay away from him. He could wait. He could do this. He just hoped it would work.
Clark's head turned. Increased heart rate. Increased breathing. He noted it all. But was it a heart attack? It more than likely wasn't. Ridiculous, he knew. He adjusted his glasses, very briefly wiping his hands on his legs.
"Dinner's no issue, Mister Wayne. Er, Bruce," he sheepishly corrected himself. "And I do believe you wanted to speak to me about something."
Dear God. Was Bruce going to confront him about the whole Superman thing? Or worse, how it was extremely obvious based off how often he came to Gotham to speak to Bruce that the billionaire knew how he felt about him, and then turn him away forever?
"I'm all ears."
Bruce couldn't help but smile a little at the slip, a soft laugh escaping - god, Clark could be so sweet and cute sometimes. "As I've said, Bruce is just fine, Clark. We've talked far too much outside of work to be using last names." Clark seemed nervous, so he reached out and set a hand on the man's shoulder. It wasn't something he did often, considering that Clark was taller than him. "Relax. It's nothing horrible, I promise."
Relax. What a funny word to use, when he was so anxious himself.
He pulled Clark's chair back and waited for the man to stand, holding out a hand for Clark to take. "I thought you'd be more busy on Valentine's. But it's always nice to see you." He paused for a moment. "There's something I'd like to show you, if you don't mind staying for a bit longer."
"Me? Busy on Valentine's?" Clark chuckled, almost as the assumption was amusing to him. "You're funny, Bruce." He took Bruce's hand as he stood. "I don't mind staying any longer. There's no immediate demand for my return. I made sure to finish everything before I left."
Holding Bruce's hand was an experience he did not think he'd ever get to have. One that, if this was the only time he could ever do so, he would not be forgetting.
He took a deep breath. He felt jittery. He needed to calm down.
"Lead the way, Bruce."
"Well, I can't see why you wouldn't be. Surely there are people who would love to spend the day with you." Me included, Bruce thought, but didn't voice it. "You're very pleasant to be around. Kind. I'm surprised no one has taken you off the market yet." He sharpened his smile just slightly - that tease he used when he was in public, playing up the whole "playboy" persona. If it was more genuine now, no one needed to know.
His grip on Clark's hand tightened, and he turned, glancing around. "It's just down the hall. I'll try not to keep you too long. I'm sure you'd prefer getting home to sleep." He knew Clark didn't really need to sleep, but he wasn't supposed to. No letting anything on quite yet.
He led Clark out of the dining room and down a hallway, each step seeming to take far too much effort. He knew his heart was speeding up again, beating so fast in his chest he felt like it might burst. Somehow, this was almost worse than the actual confession. If Clark was upset at this, then Bruce would lose him completely.
He stopped at a door. From the outside it looked like any other, but as he pulled a special key from his pocket, it became clear it wasn't. The door unlocked with a hydraulic sound, and beyond was a keypad that Bruce quickly entered a code into. Beyond that was a long, dark flight of stairs. The entrance to the Batcave.
He swallowed and turned to look at Clark again. "It's shorter than it looks," he said, almost joking, trying to get rid of some of the tension - more his own than Clark's. He took a step down. There was a faint light at the bottom. "It's nothing nefarious, I promise." He tugged just slightly on Clark's hand, encouraging him to follow - because what would Bruce do if Clark didn't?
"If you... say so." Clark warily looked down the dark hallway, following him.
The further they went, the more Clark pieced it together. He didn't know how her didn't before.
"Goodness, Bruce. You... You're..." He fumbled for the words. "Oh, golly."
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, the main room of the cave was visible. It would have been obvious anyway, but Clark had seen bits and pieces through Justice League calls.
Bruce swallowed again. Somehow it was harder to speak now that Clark knew. "Yeah," he eventually managed, voice a little quieter, fainter. He looked over at Clark, trying to study his face, trying to gauge his reaction. His heart is still pounding, there's a pressure in his chest, but he knows how to ignore it. "I didn't... I didn't know how to tell you. I thought just showing you might be easier."
He didn't know if it was.
"You're... you're Batman, Bruce. I can tell why it'd be hard for you to... um. Say it." Clark managed. "I... wow. This is a lot to take in."
Looking around the cave, he took a breath in. "I just... wow."
His thumb ran over Bruce's hand. He still hadn't let go.
"I'm... I'm honored you trust me enough to tell me this, Bruce."
"Of course I trust you," Bruce said, and he almost regretted it - he wasn't supposed to know Clark's secret yet. There was no reason for Bruce Wayne to trust a random reporter so deeply, even if they were friends. But it was true even without the secret, honestly - there was something about Clark that just put Bruce at ease.
He was like sunshine. Bruce looked at him and felt like as long as he was there, everything would be okay. It wouldn't be a lie to say that being at Clark's side was the safest he'd felt in years, even before he figured out who he was.
He managed a small smile. Something in him relaxed. His heart was still racing, but for an entirely different reason this time. "There... There is one other thing I'd like to talk to you about. But if there's anything you'd like to say first..." He could only imagine what Clark was thinking about, especially with how Superman and Batman usually interacted.
He did have something to say. He knew he had something to say.
"Since you... trust me this much, I suppose I... should tell you as well." Clark cleared his throat. His free hand went to his glasses. He considered just taking them off. His hand twitched, finally grabbing the temple of his glasses, lowering them off his face.
"... I suppose I'm... not quite much of who you thought I was, either."
Bruce paused, and then his smile grew, and he stepped a little closer. There was something about the moment, seeing Clark with the glasses off, revealing himself... It made something warm build in his chest. "Ah." And then there was a little of that tease in his voice again, smile sharpening. Batman couldn't exactly save Bruce Wayne, after all, which meant if something happened while he was out as Bruce... Well, a certain hero would have to swoop in. "It's nice to finally know you, Mister Superman."
His smile softened again, as did his eyes - something more vulnerable, more open. "... Though, I'm not as surprised as you might think. I... I prepare for a lot of eventualities. Including people trying to mask their appearance." But it still felt so nice for it to be true this time. For Clark to show him, for himself. Bruce's chest felt paradoxically both heavy and light, a mix of happiness and nerves. "But... I'm glad you trust me, too. We've worked together for so long, I know how I act, but... You are my friend."
Maybe more.
Bruce shook his head slightly, more at himself than anything. He still had to get there. "I hope you know I don't mind as much as I complain about." He had always been a bit standoffish as Batman, often complaining or denying the friendly, affectionate gestures from Superman. But he did actually enjoy them, he just had an image as Batman - it was important to keep that, so there wouldn't be any suspicion. And there were things that he didn't enjoy... If it wasn't Clark doing them. He always liked it with Clark.
"I suppose it's better for us to know this about each other than not." Clark chuckled. "It's better to be open about this. I think... I think it'd make us better people. Better partners."
Possibly more.
"You had something else to tell me?"
He was more nervous. One, it wasn't the whole Superman thing. But now? Now he had no clue what it was about. It freaked him out. Maybe he knew. Maybe he knew Clark had fallen for him, and after this moment, everything would go downhill. But... Bruce wouldn't have told him about this if he was planning to push him away. He was making things up in his head.
Bruce took a breath. He could feel his heart beating faster once more, just after he'd started to calm. He knew Clark could hear it, and that wasn't a secret anymore. But for a moment he was frozen, unsure of how to do this. He couldn't find the words, his tongue felt frozen - he didn't know what to say. Would it be better to just say it? To try and ease into it before confessing?
"I-" He tried to speak, but only gave a few false starts; the words wouldn't come. He looked at Clark, eyes just a tad wider as slate blue met sky, and once again he was filled with a desire he often had. He didn't know what came over him, but one moment he was standing there, frozen, and the next he was grabbing Clark's shirt and pulling the man in. If he couldn't get the words out, maybe actions would work, maybe Bruce could just give in and-
-and kiss him.
Oh.
Oh.
That's what he wanted. That's what he wanted to talk to him about. And it was... so much nicer than he expected. Gentle. Much more than he expected it to be when it came to Bruce. Not in a bad way.
It took him a moment before he leaned into it, his hand going to Bruce's waist.
A moment he never wanted to end.
Bruce didn't want it to end either. He practically melted into the touch, his body leaning into Clark's until he was resting his weight firmly on the taller man. His arms draped loosely around Clark, a low hum leaving him. It was safe. It was warm. It was loving. It was gentle. Bruce was sure this was the greatest moment of his life.
This was heaven.
He only broke the kiss when he finally ran out of air, pulling back but still leaning into Clark. He leaned his head against Clark's shoulder, breathing heavier, but warm. For a moment he didn't know what to say.
Eventually, he lifted his head slightly, his voice coming out quiet. Almost faint. "Was that okay...?"
Clark smiled, resting his forehead against Bruce's.
"It was more than okay. It was wonderful."
His hand went to the man's cheek, gently caressing Bruce's cheek. "I was actually... pretty worried you didn't feel the same way about me."
A pause, then a sheepish chuckle.
"It sounds a little of ridiculous now that I say it aloud, though."
Bruce let out a soft, contented sigh, leaning into the touch almost instinctively. The feeling of Clark's hand was something he'd barely dared to dream of. He almost seemed to nuzzle into it, smiling softly. Oh, this was amazing. He didn't know the last time he'd felt like this. So warm and safe and... And loved.
"It's not ridiculous," he murmured, and then quieter, "... I was nervous too."
His eyes fluttered, but then met Clark's again, and for a moment he was breathless just staring at that beautiful face. He didn't know how to ask, asking Clark to be his boyfriend was just... It felt too light? It didn't feel right for them. "Are we...?"
That was kind of the question he dreaded. Putting a label on it immediately felt a little overwhelming to him. He had to slow down.
"We can be. If you want. Um, unless you're- you're also seeing other people. I mean, I'm not, but I'm certain many people want... you." Clark struggled to string it together.
"I mean, I'd be okay if we... started dating. Maybe I'd hold off on all the interviews with you. Conflict of interest. I'd be biased. Not that I wasn't already. But I was better at not showing it through writing before this."
Bruce made another soft hum, smiling at the way Clark stumbled over his words. God, he loved this dork. "No, I'm not seeing anyone else. I wouldn't be interested in any of them anyway... Despite the public persona, that isn't really my thing." He wasn't really... Well, he didn't like doing anything like that if there weren't feelings involved. And he had been hesitant to get in a relationship, considering... Y'know. Batman and all.
"I don't mind if you don't want to label it," he said softly. "Calling you my boyfriend feels... Weird. You mean a lot to me. Beyond just that. I'd just... Like to have you. To be able to do things like this. Be together." He laughs softly. "Though, I'll miss having my personal reporter. The rest are like vultures."
"I think not labeling it works out the best for us. Right now, at least," Clark inhaled. "It's all still... new. Romantic relationships are still beyond my understanding. Overwhelming, I suppose."
He thought for a moment. "I do like us being together. It feels... right." The smile that crossed his face was pure joy.
"And about that reporter thing... honest journalism is my thing. You'll find another that isn't a vulture."
Bruce laughed a little, holding on just a tad tighter. "I... I'm a bit surprised, honestly. You seem like the perfect partner. Kind, gentle, respectful... Though, I guess that makes me lucky. I can't imagine anyone letting go of you once they have you, so maybe I should consider it lucky that I got to you first." He averted his gaze though his eyes were still open, his smile somewhat shy. "To be honest... This is my first real relationship too. I'm good at acting, but... None of it is really genuine."
He pressed his face into Clark's shoulder then, a soft noise leaving him; he liked Clark's smell. Coffee and warmth and ink, yet still with a hint of grass and hay he couldn't quite shake. It was nice. It was peaceful. "Together, then. You and me."
The last part made him smile a little more, but his only hummed in agreement, giving Clark another little squeeze. He felt... Safe. But not just safe, it was different. Like something had slotted into place in his chest. Like this was where he was meant to be.
Bruce sighs. If he's going to do this, he has to do it now. He has a plan, kind of - of course he does, he's Batman, he always has a plan. But he knows, precisely because he's Batman, that plans rarely ever work out.
But this one is fairly simple. It should be fine. Right?
Dinner is finished, so once Alfred has cleared the table (with help, of course), he stands and sets a hand on the back of Clark's chair. He has to think for a moment.
"Thank you for coming to dinner," he starts with, because he can't just jump into this. "It was good to see you. Now, I believe I mentioned I wanted to talk about something after we ate?"
He's certain Clark can hear the way his heartbeat picks up speed, the slight increase in his breathing. He knows, of course he knows, he figured Clark out months ago, but he'd rather wait for Clark to tell him than say anything. He didn't want Clark to be put off or anxious enough about it to leave or stay away from him. He could wait. He could do this. He just hoped it would work.
Clark's head turned. Increased heart rate. Increased breathing. He noted it all. But was it a heart attack? It more than likely wasn't. Ridiculous, he knew. He adjusted his glasses, very briefly wiping his hands on his legs.
"Dinner's no issue, Mister Wayne. Er, Bruce," he sheepishly corrected himself. "And I do believe you wanted to speak to me about something."
Dear God. Was Bruce going to confront him about the whole Superman thing? Or worse, how it was extremely obvious based off how often he came to Gotham to speak to Bruce that the billionaire knew how he felt about him, and then turn him away forever?
"I'm all ears."
Bruce couldn't help but smile a little at the slip, a soft laugh escaping - god, Clark could be so sweet and cute sometimes. "As I've said, Bruce is just fine, Clark. We've talked far too much outside of work to be using last names." Clark seemed nervous, so he reached out and set a hand on the man's shoulder. It wasn't something he did often, considering that Clark was taller than him. "Relax. It's nothing horrible, I promise."
Relax. What a funny word to use, when he was so anxious himself.
He pulled Clark's chair back and waited for the man to stand, holding out a hand for Clark to take. "I thought you'd be more busy on Valentine's. But it's always nice to see you." He paused for a moment. "There's something I'd like to show you, if you don't mind staying for a bit longer."
"Me? Busy on Valentine's?" Clark chuckled, almost as the assumption was amusing to him. "You're funny, Bruce." He took Bruce's hand as he stood. "I don't mind staying any longer. There's no immediate demand for my return. I made sure to finish everything before I left."
Holding Bruce's hand was an experience he did not think he'd ever get to have. One that, if this was the only time he could ever do so, he would not be forgetting.
He took a deep breath. He felt jittery. He needed to calm down.
"Lead the way, Bruce."
"Well, I can't see why you wouldn't be. Surely there are people who would love to spend the day with you." Me included, Bruce thought, but didn't voice it. "You're very pleasant to be around. Kind. I'm surprised no one has taken you off the market yet." He sharpened his smile just slightly - that tease he used when he was in public, playing up the whole "playboy" persona. If it was more genuine now, no one needed to know.
His grip on Clark's hand tightened, and he turned, glancing around. "It's just down the hall. I'll try not to keep you too long. I'm sure you'd prefer getting home to sleep." He knew Clark didn't really need to sleep, but he wasn't supposed to. No letting anything on quite yet.
He led Clark out of the dining room and down a hallway, each step seeming to take far too much effort. He knew his heart was speeding up again, beating so fast in his chest he felt like it might burst. Somehow, this was almost worse than the actual confession. If Clark was upset at this, then Bruce would lose him completely.
He stopped at a door. From the outside it looked like any other, but as he pulled a special key from his pocket, it became clear it wasn't. The door unlocked with a hydraulic sound, and beyond was a keypad that Bruce quickly entered a code into. Beyond that was a long, dark flight of stairs. The entrance to the Batcave.
He swallowed and turned to look at Clark again. "It's shorter than it looks," he said, almost joking, trying to get rid of some of the tension - more his own than Clark's. He took a step down. There was a faint light at the bottom. "It's nothing nefarious, I promise." He tugged just slightly on Clark's hand, encouraging him to follow - because what would Bruce do if Clark didn't?
"If you... say so." Clark warily looked down the dark hallway, following him.
The further they went, the more Clark pieced it together. He didn't know how her didn't before.
"Goodness, Bruce. You... You're..." He fumbled for the words. "Oh, golly."
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, the main room of the cave was visible. It would have been obvious anyway, but Clark had seen bits and pieces through Justice League calls.
Bruce swallowed again. Somehow it was harder to speak now that Clark knew. "Yeah," he eventually managed, voice a little quieter, fainter. He looked over at Clark, trying to study his face, trying to gauge his reaction. His heart is still pounding, there's a pressure in his chest, but he knows how to ignore it. "I didn't... I didn't know how to tell you. I thought just showing you might be easier."
He didn't know if it was.
"You're... you're Batman, Bruce. I can tell why it'd be hard for you to... um. Say it." Clark managed. "I... wow. This is a lot to take in."
Looking around the cave, he took a breath in. "I just... wow."
His thumb ran over Bruce's hand. He still hadn't let go.
"I'm... I'm honored you trust me enough to tell me this, Bruce."
"Of course I trust you," Bruce said, and he almost regretted it - he wasn't supposed to know Clark's secret yet. There was no reason for Bruce Wayne to trust a random reporter so deeply, even if they were friends. But it was true even without the secret, honestly - there was something about Clark that just put Bruce at ease.
He was like sunshine. Bruce looked at him and felt like as long as he was there, everything would be okay. It wouldn't be a lie to say that being at Clark's side was the safest he'd felt in years, even before he figured out who he was.
He managed a small smile. Something in him relaxed. His heart was still racing, but for an entirely different reason this time. "There... There is one other thing I'd like to talk to you about. But if there's anything you'd like to say first..." He could only imagine what Clark was thinking about, especially with how Superman and Batman usually interacted.
He did have something to say. He knew he had something to say.
"Since you... trust me this much, I suppose I... should tell you as well." Clark cleared his throat. His free hand went to his glasses. He considered just taking them off. His hand twitched, finally grabbing the temple of his glasses, lowering them off his face.
"... I suppose I'm... not quite much of who you thought I was, either."
Bruce paused, and then his smile grew, and he stepped a little closer. There was something about the moment, seeing Clark with the glasses off, revealing himself... It made something warm build in his chest. "Ah." And then there was a little of that tease in his voice again, smile sharpening. Batman couldn't exactly save Bruce Wayne, after all, which meant if something happened while he was out as Bruce... Well, a certain hero would have to swoop in. "It's nice to finally know you, Mister Superman."
His smile softened again, as did his eyes - something more vulnerable, more open. "... Though, I'm not as surprised as you might think. I... I prepare for a lot of eventualities. Including people trying to mask their appearance." But it still felt so nice for it to be true this time. For Clark to show him, for himself. Bruce's chest felt paradoxically both heavy and light, a mix of happiness and nerves. "But... I'm glad you trust me, too. We've worked together for so long, I know how I act, but... You are my friend."
Maybe more.
Bruce shook his head slightly, more at himself than anything. He still had to get there. "I hope you know I don't mind as much as I complain about." He had always been a bit standoffish as Batman, often complaining or denying the friendly, affectionate gestures from Superman. But he did actually enjoy them, he just had an image as Batman - it was important to keep that, so there wouldn't be any suspicion. And there were things that he didn't enjoy... If it wasn't Clark doing them. He always liked it with Clark.
"I suppose it's better for us to know this about each other than not." Clark chuckled. "It's better to be open about this. I think... I think it'd make us better people. Better partners."
Possibly more.
"You had something else to tell me?"
He was more nervous. One, it wasn't the whole Superman thing. But now? Now he had no clue what it was about. It freaked him out. Maybe he knew. Maybe he knew Clark had fallen for him, and after this moment, everything would go downhill. But... Bruce wouldn't have told him about this if he was planning to push him away. He was making things up in his head.
Bruce took a breath. He could feel his heart beating faster once more, just after he'd started to calm. He knew Clark could hear it, and that wasn't a secret anymore. But for a moment he was frozen, unsure of how to do this. He couldn't find the words, his tongue felt frozen - he didn't know what to say. Would it be better to just say it? To try and ease into it before confessing?
"I-" He tried to speak, but only gave a few false starts; the words wouldn't come. He looked at Clark, eyes just a tad wider as slate blue met sky, and once again he was filled with a desire he often had. He didn't know what came over him, but one moment he was standing there, frozen, and the next he was grabbing Clark's shirt and pulling the man in. If he couldn't get the words out, maybe actions would work, maybe Bruce could just give in and-
-and kiss him.
Oh.
Oh.
That's what he wanted. That's what he wanted to talk to him about. And it was... so much nicer than he expected. Gentle. Much more than he expected it to be when it came to Bruce. Not in a bad way.
It took him a moment before he leaned into it, his hand going to Bruce's waist.
A moment he never wanted to end.
Bruce didn't want it to end either. He practically melted into the touch, his body leaning into Clark's until he was resting his weight firmly on the taller man. His arms draped loosely around Clark, a low hum leaving him. It was safe. It was warm. It was loving. It was gentle. Bruce was sure this was the greatest moment of his life.
This was heaven.
He only broke the kiss when he finally ran out of air, pulling back but still leaning into Clark. He leaned his head against Clark's shoulder, breathing heavier, but warm. For a moment he didn't know what to say.
Eventually, he lifted his head slightly, his voice coming out quiet. Almost faint. "Was that okay...?"
Clark smiled, resting his forehead against Bruce's.
"It was more than okay. It was wonderful."
His hand went to the man's cheek, gently caressing Bruce's cheek. "I was actually... pretty worried you didn't feel the same way about me."
A pause, then a sheepish chuckle.
"It sounds a little of ridiculous now that I say it aloud, though."
Bruce let out a soft, contented sigh, leaning into the touch almost instinctively. The feeling of Clark's hand was something he'd barely dared to dream of. He almost seemed to nuzzle into it, smiling softly. Oh, this was amazing. He didn't know the last time he'd felt like this. So warm and safe and... And loved.
"It's not ridiculous," he murmured, and then quieter, "... I was nervous too."
His eyes fluttered, but then met Clark's again, and for a moment he was breathless just staring at that beautiful face. He didn't know how to ask, asking Clark to be his boyfriend was just... It felt too light? It didn't feel right for them. "Are we...?"
That was kind of the question he dreaded. Putting a label on it immediately felt a little overwhelming to him. He had to slow down.
"We can be. If you want. Um, unless you're- you're also seeing other people. I mean, I'm not, but I'm certain many people want... you." Clark struggled to string it together.
"I mean, I'd be okay if we... started dating. Maybe I'd hold off on all the interviews with you. Conflict of interest. I'd be biased. Not that I wasn't already. But I was better at not showing it through writing before this."
Bruce made another soft hum, smiling at the way Clark stumbled over his words. God, he loved this dork. "No, I'm not seeing anyone else. I wouldn't be interested in any of them anyway... Despite the public persona, that isn't really my thing." He wasn't really... Well, he didn't like doing anything like that if there weren't feelings involved. And he had been hesitant to get in a relationship, considering... Y'know. Batman and all.
"I don't mind if you don't want to label it," he said softly. "Calling you my boyfriend feels... Weird. You mean a lot to me. Beyond just that. I'd just... Like to have you. To be able to do things like this. Be together." He laughs softly. "Though, I'll miss having my personal reporter. The rest are like vultures."
"I think not labeling it works out the best for us. Right now, at least," Clark inhaled. "It's all still... new. Romantic relationships are still beyond my understanding. Overwhelming, I suppose."
He thought for a moment. "I do like us being together. It feels... right." The smile that crossed his face was pure joy.
"And about that reporter thing... honest journalism is my thing. You'll find another that isn't a vulture."
Bruce sighs. If he's going to do this, he has to do it now. He has a plan, kind of - of course he does, he's Batman, he always has a plan. But he knows, precisely because he's Batman, that plans rarely ever work out.
But this one is fairly simple. It should be fine. Right?
Dinner is finished, so once Alfred has cleared the table (with help, of course), he stands and sets a hand on the back of Clark's chair. He has to think for a moment.
"Thank you for coming to dinner," he starts with, because he can't just jump into this. "It was good to see you. Now, I believe I mentioned I wanted to talk about something after we ate?"
He's certain Clark can hear the way his heartbeat picks up speed, the slight increase in his breathing. He knows, of course he knows, he figured Clark out months ago, but he'd rather wait for Clark to tell him than say anything. He didn't want Clark to be put off or anxious enough about it to leave or stay away from him. He could wait. He could do this. He just hoped it would work.
Clark's head turned. Increased heart rate. Increased breathing. He noted it all. But was it a heart attack? It more than likely wasn't. Ridiculous, he knew. He adjusted his glasses, very briefly wiping his hands on his legs.
"Dinner's no issue, Mister Wayne. Er, Bruce," he sheepishly corrected himself. "And I do believe you wanted to speak to me about something."
Dear God. Was Bruce going to confront him about the whole Superman thing? Or worse, how it was extremely obvious based off how often he came to Gotham to speak to Bruce that the billionaire knew how he felt about him, and then turn him away forever?
"I'm all ears."
Bruce couldn't help but smile a little at the slip, a soft laugh escaping - god, Clark could be so sweet and cute sometimes. "As I've said, Bruce is just fine, Clark. We've talked far too much outside of work to be using last names." Clark seemed nervous, so he reached out and set a hand on the man's shoulder. It wasn't something he did often, considering that Clark was taller than him. "Relax. It's nothing horrible, I promise."
Relax. What a funny word to use, when he was so anxious himself.
He pulled Clark's chair back and waited for the man to stand, holding out a hand for Clark to take. "I thought you'd be more busy on Valentine's. But it's always nice to see you." He paused for a moment. "There's something I'd like to show you, if you don't mind staying for a bit longer."
"Me? Busy on Valentine's?" Clark chuckled, almost as the assumption was amusing to him. "You're funny, Bruce." He took Bruce's hand as he stood. "I don't mind staying any longer. There's no immediate demand for my return. I made sure to finish everything before I left."
Holding Bruce's hand was an experience he did not think he'd ever get to have. One that, if this was the only time he could ever do so, he would not be forgetting.
He took a deep breath. He felt jittery. He needed to calm down.
"Lead the way, Bruce."
"Well, I can't see why you wouldn't be. Surely there are people who would love to spend the day with you." Me included, Bruce thought, but didn't voice it. "You're very pleasant to be around. Kind. I'm surprised no one has taken you off the market yet." He sharpened his smile just slightly - that tease he used when he was in public, playing up the whole "playboy" persona. If it was more genuine now, no one needed to know.
His grip on Clark's hand tightened, and he turned, glancing around. "It's just down the hall. I'll try not to keep you too long. I'm sure you'd prefer getting home to sleep." He knew Clark didn't really need to sleep, but he wasn't supposed to. No letting anything on quite yet.
He led Clark out of the dining room and down a hallway, each step seeming to take far too much effort. He knew his heart was speeding up again, beating so fast in his chest he felt like it might burst. Somehow, this was almost worse than the actual confession. If Clark was upset at this, then Bruce would lose him completely.
He stopped at a door. From the outside it looked like any other, but as he pulled a special key from his pocket, it became clear it wasn't. The door unlocked with a hydraulic sound, and beyond was a keypad that Bruce quickly entered a code into. Beyond that was a long, dark flight of stairs. The entrance to the Batcave.
He swallowed and turned to look at Clark again. "It's shorter than it looks," he said, almost joking, trying to get rid of some of the tension - more his own than Clark's. He took a step down. There was a faint light at the bottom. "It's nothing nefarious, I promise." He tugged just slightly on Clark's hand, encouraging him to follow - because what would Bruce do if Clark didn't?
"If you... say so." Clark warily looked down the dark hallway, following him.
The further they went, the more Clark pieced it together. He didn't know how her didn't before.
"Goodness, Bruce. You... You're..." He fumbled for the words. "Oh, golly."
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, the main room of the cave was visible. It would have been obvious anyway, but Clark had seen bits and pieces through Justice League calls.
Bruce swallowed again. Somehow it was harder to speak now that Clark knew. "Yeah," he eventually managed, voice a little quieter, fainter. He looked over at Clark, trying to study his face, trying to gauge his reaction. His heart is still pounding, there's a pressure in his chest, but he knows how to ignore it. "I didn't... I didn't know how to tell you. I thought just showing you might be easier."
He didn't know if it was.
"You're... you're Batman, Bruce. I can tell why it'd be hard for you to... um. Say it." Clark managed. "I... wow. This is a lot to take in."
Looking around the cave, he took a breath in. "I just... wow."
His thumb ran over Bruce's hand. He still hadn't let go.
"I'm... I'm honored you trust me enough to tell me this, Bruce."
"Of course I trust you," Bruce said, and he almost regretted it - he wasn't supposed to know Clark's secret yet. There was no reason for Bruce Wayne to trust a random reporter so deeply, even if they were friends. But it was true even without the secret, honestly - there was something about Clark that just put Bruce at ease.
He was like sunshine. Bruce looked at him and felt like as long as he was there, everything would be okay. It wouldn't be a lie to say that being at Clark's side was the safest he'd felt in years, even before he figured out who he was.
He managed a small smile. Something in him relaxed. His heart was still racing, but for an entirely different reason this time. "There... There is one other thing I'd like to talk to you about. But if there's anything you'd like to say first..." He could only imagine what Clark was thinking about, especially with how Superman and Batman usually interacted.
He did have something to say. He knew he had something to say.
"Since you... trust me this much, I suppose I... should tell you as well." Clark cleared his throat. His free hand went to his glasses. He considered just taking them off. His hand twitched, finally grabbing the temple of his glasses, lowering them off his face.
"... I suppose I'm... not quite much of who you thought I was, either."
Bruce paused, and then his smile grew, and he stepped a little closer. There was something about the moment, seeing Clark with the glasses off, revealing himself... It made something warm build in his chest. "Ah." And then there was a little of that tease in his voice again, smile sharpening. Batman couldn't exactly save Bruce Wayne, after all, which meant if something happened while he was out as Bruce... Well, a certain hero would have to swoop in. "It's nice to finally know you, Mister Superman."
His smile softened again, as did his eyes - something more vulnerable, more open. "... Though, I'm not as surprised as you might think. I... I prepare for a lot of eventualities. Including people trying to mask their appearance." But it still felt so nice for it to be true this time. For Clark to show him, for himself. Bruce's chest felt paradoxically both heavy and light, a mix of happiness and nerves. "But... I'm glad you trust me, too. We've worked together for so long, I know how I act, but... You are my friend."
Maybe more.
Bruce shook his head slightly, more at himself than anything. He still had to get there. "I hope you know I don't mind as much as I complain about." He had always been a bit standoffish as Batman, often complaining or denying the friendly, affectionate gestures from Superman. But he did actually enjoy them, he just had an image as Batman - it was important to keep that, so there wouldn't be any suspicion. And there were things that he didn't enjoy... If it wasn't Clark doing them. He always liked it with Clark.
"I suppose it's better for us to know this about each other than not." Clark chuckled. "It's better to be open about this. I think... I think it'd make us better people. Better partners."
Possibly more.
"You had something else to tell me?"
He was more nervous. One, it wasn't the whole Superman thing. But now? Now he had no clue what it was about. It freaked him out. Maybe he knew. Maybe he knew Clark had fallen for him, and after this moment, everything would go downhill. But... Bruce wouldn't have told him about this if he was planning to push him away. He was making things up in his head.
Bruce took a breath. He could feel his heart beating faster once more, just after he'd started to calm. He knew Clark could hear it, and that wasn't a secret anymore. But for a moment he was frozen, unsure of how to do this. He couldn't find the words, his tongue felt frozen - he didn't know what to say. Would it be better to just say it? To try and ease into it before confessing?
"I-" He tried to speak, but only gave a few false starts; the words wouldn't come. He looked at Clark, eyes just a tad wider as slate blue met sky, and once again he was filled with a desire he often had. He didn't know what came over him, but one moment he was standing there, frozen, and the next he was grabbing Clark's shirt and pulling the man in. If he couldn't get the words out, maybe actions would work, maybe Bruce could just give in and-
-and kiss him.
Oh.
Oh.
That's what he wanted. That's what he wanted to talk to him about. And it was... so much nicer than he expected. Gentle. Much more than he expected it to be when it came to Bruce. Not in a bad way.
It took him a moment before he leaned into it, his hand going to Bruce's waist.
A moment he never wanted to end.
Bruce didn't want it to end either. He practically melted into the touch, his body leaning into Clark's until he was resting his weight firmly on the taller man. His arms draped loosely around Clark, a low hum leaving him. It was safe. It was warm. It was loving. It was gentle. Bruce was sure this was the greatest moment of his life.
This was heaven.
He only broke the kiss when he finally ran out of air, pulling back but still leaning into Clark. He leaned his head against Clark's shoulder, breathing heavier, but warm. For a moment he didn't know what to say.
Eventually, he lifted his head slightly, his voice coming out quiet. Almost faint. "Was that okay...?"
Clark smiled, resting his forehead against Bruce's.
"It was more than okay. It was wonderful."
His hand went to the man's cheek, gently caressing Bruce's cheek. "I was actually... pretty worried you didn't feel the same way about me."
A pause, then a sheepish chuckle.
"It sounds a little of ridiculous now that I say it aloud, though."
Bruce let out a soft, contented sigh, leaning into the touch almost instinctively. The feeling of Clark's hand was something he'd barely dared to dream of. He almost seemed to nuzzle into it, smiling softly. Oh, this was amazing. He didn't know the last time he'd felt like this. So warm and safe and... And loved.
"It's not ridiculous," he murmured, and then quieter, "... I was nervous too."
His eyes fluttered, but then met Clark's again, and for a moment he was breathless just staring at that beautiful face. He didn't know how to ask, asking Clark to be his boyfriend was just... It felt too light? It didn't feel right for them. "Are we...?"
That was kind of the question he dreaded. Putting a label on it immediately felt a little overwhelming to him. He had to slow down.
"We can be. If you want. Um, unless you're- you're also seeing other people. I mean, I'm not, but I'm certain many people want... you." Clark struggled to string it together.
"I mean, I'd be okay if we... started dating. Maybe I'd hold off on all the interviews with you. Conflict of interest. I'd be biased. Not that I wasn't already. But I was better at not showing it through writing before this."
Bruce sighs. If he's going to do this, he has to do it now. He has a plan, kind of - of course he does, he's Batman, he always has a plan. But he knows, precisely because he's Batman, that plans rarely ever work out.
But this one is fairly simple. It should be fine. Right?
Dinner is finished, so once Alfred has cleared the table (with help, of course), he stands and sets a hand on the back of Clark's chair. He has to think for a moment.
"Thank you for coming to dinner," he starts with, because he can't just jump into this. "It was good to see you. Now, I believe I mentioned I wanted to talk about something after we ate?"
He's certain Clark can hear the way his heartbeat picks up speed, the slight increase in his breathing. He knows, of course he knows, he figured Clark out months ago, but he'd rather wait for Clark to tell him than say anything. He didn't want Clark to be put off or anxious enough about it to leave or stay away from him. He could wait. He could do this. He just hoped it would work.
Clark's head turned. Increased heart rate. Increased breathing. He noted it all. But was it a heart attack? It more than likely wasn't. Ridiculous, he knew. He adjusted his glasses, very briefly wiping his hands on his legs.
"Dinner's no issue, Mister Wayne. Er, Bruce," he sheepishly corrected himself. "And I do believe you wanted to speak to me about something."
Dear God. Was Bruce going to confront him about the whole Superman thing? Or worse, how it was extremely obvious based off how often he came to Gotham to speak to Bruce that the billionaire knew how he felt about him, and then turn him away forever?
"I'm all ears."
Bruce couldn't help but smile a little at the slip, a soft laugh escaping - god, Clark could be so sweet and cute sometimes. "As I've said, Bruce is just fine, Clark. We've talked far too much outside of work to be using last names." Clark seemed nervous, so he reached out and set a hand on the man's shoulder. It wasn't something he did often, considering that Clark was taller than him. "Relax. It's nothing horrible, I promise."
Relax. What a funny word to use, when he was so anxious himself.
He pulled Clark's chair back and waited for the man to stand, holding out a hand for Clark to take. "I thought you'd be more busy on Valentine's. But it's always nice to see you." He paused for a moment. "There's something I'd like to show you, if you don't mind staying for a bit longer."
"Me? Busy on Valentine's?" Clark chuckled, almost as the assumption was amusing to him. "You're funny, Bruce." He took Bruce's hand as he stood. "I don't mind staying any longer. There's no immediate demand for my return. I made sure to finish everything before I left."
Holding Bruce's hand was an experience he did not think he'd ever get to have. One that, if this was the only time he could ever do so, he would not be forgetting.
He took a deep breath. He felt jittery. He needed to calm down.
"Lead the way, Bruce."
"Well, I can't see why you wouldn't be. Surely there are people who would love to spend the day with you." Me included, Bruce thought, but didn't voice it. "You're very pleasant to be around. Kind. I'm surprised no one has taken you off the market yet." He sharpened his smile just slightly - that tease he used when he was in public, playing up the whole "playboy" persona. If it was more genuine now, no one needed to know.
His grip on Clark's hand tightened, and he turned, glancing around. "It's just down the hall. I'll try not to keep you too long. I'm sure you'd prefer getting home to sleep." He knew Clark didn't really need to sleep, but he wasn't supposed to. No letting anything on quite yet.
He led Clark out of the dining room and down a hallway, each step seeming to take far too much effort. He knew his heart was speeding up again, beating so fast in his chest he felt like it might burst. Somehow, this was almost worse than the actual confession. If Clark was upset at this, then Bruce would lose him completely.
He stopped at a door. From the outside it looked like any other, but as he pulled a special key from his pocket, it became clear it wasn't. The door unlocked with a hydraulic sound, and beyond was a keypad that Bruce quickly entered a code into. Beyond that was a long, dark flight of stairs. The entrance to the Batcave.
He swallowed and turned to look at Clark again. "It's shorter than it looks," he said, almost joking, trying to get rid of some of the tension - more his own than Clark's. He took a step down. There was a faint light at the bottom. "It's nothing nefarious, I promise." He tugged just slightly on Clark's hand, encouraging him to follow - because what would Bruce do if Clark didn't?
"If you... say so." Clark warily looked down the dark hallway, following him.
The further they went, the more Clark pieced it together. He didn't know how her didn't before.
"Goodness, Bruce. You... You're..." He fumbled for the words. "Oh, golly."
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, the main room of the cave was visible. It would have been obvious anyway, but Clark had seen bits and pieces through Justice League calls.
Bruce swallowed again. Somehow it was harder to speak now that Clark knew. "Yeah," he eventually managed, voice a little quieter, fainter. He looked over at Clark, trying to study his face, trying to gauge his reaction. His heart is still pounding, there's a pressure in his chest, but he knows how to ignore it. "I didn't... I didn't know how to tell you. I thought just showing you might be easier."
He didn't know if it was.
"You're... you're Batman, Bruce. I can tell why it'd be hard for you to... um. Say it." Clark managed. "I... wow. This is a lot to take in."
Looking around the cave, he took a breath in. "I just... wow."
His thumb ran over Bruce's hand. He still hadn't let go.
"I'm... I'm honored you trust me enough to tell me this, Bruce."
"Of course I trust you," Bruce said, and he almost regretted it - he wasn't supposed to know Clark's secret yet. There was no reason for Bruce Wayne to trust a random reporter so deeply, even if they were friends. But it was true even without the secret, honestly - there was something about Clark that just put Bruce at ease.
He was like sunshine. Bruce looked at him and felt like as long as he was there, everything would be okay. It wouldn't be a lie to say that being at Clark's side was the safest he'd felt in years, even before he figured out who he was.
He managed a small smile. Something in him relaxed. His heart was still racing, but for an entirely different reason this time. "There... There is one other thing I'd like to talk to you about. But if there's anything you'd like to say first..." He could only imagine what Clark was thinking about, especially with how Superman and Batman usually interacted.
He did have something to say. He knew he had something to say.
"Since you... trust me this much, I suppose I... should tell you as well." Clark cleared his throat. His free hand went to his glasses. He considered just taking them off. His hand twitched, finally grabbing the temple of his glasses, lowering them off his face.
"... I suppose I'm... not quite much of who you thought I was, either."
Bruce paused, and then his smile grew, and he stepped a little closer. There was something about the moment, seeing Clark with the glasses off, revealing himself... It made something warm build in his chest. "Ah." And then there was a little of that tease in his voice again, smile sharpening. Batman couldn't exactly save Bruce Wayne, after all, which meant if something happened while he was out as Bruce... Well, a certain hero would have to swoop in. "It's nice to finally know you, Mister Superman."
His smile softened again, as did his eyes - something more vulnerable, more open. "... Though, I'm not as surprised as you might think. I... I prepare for a lot of eventualities. Including people trying to mask their appearance." But it still felt so nice for it to be true this time. For Clark to show him, for himself. Bruce's chest felt paradoxically both heavy and light, a mix of happiness and nerves. "But... I'm glad you trust me, too. We've worked together for so long, I know how I act, but... You are my friend."
Maybe more.
Bruce shook his head slightly, more at himself than anything. He still had to get there. "I hope you know I don't mind as much as I complain about." He had always been a bit standoffish as Batman, often complaining or denying the friendly, affectionate gestures from Superman. But he did actually enjoy them, he just had an image as Batman - it was important to keep that, so there wouldn't be any suspicion. And there were things that he didn't enjoy... If it wasn't Clark doing them. He always liked it with Clark.
"I suppose it's better for us to know this about each other than not." Clark chuckled. "It's better to be open about this. I think... I think it'd make us better people. Better partners."
Possibly more.
"You had something else to tell me?"
He was more nervous. One, it wasn't the whole Superman thing. But now? Now he had no clue what it was about. It freaked him out. Maybe he knew. Maybe he knew Clark had fallen for him, and after this moment, everything would go downhill. But... Bruce wouldn't have told him about this if he was planning to push him away. He was making things up in his head.
Bruce took a breath. He could feel his heart beating faster once more, just after he'd started to calm. He knew Clark could hear it, and that wasn't a secret anymore. But for a moment he was frozen, unsure of how to do this. He couldn't find the words, his tongue felt frozen - he didn't know what to say. Would it be better to just say it? To try and ease into it before confessing?
"I-" He tried to speak, but only gave a few false starts; the words wouldn't come. He looked at Clark, eyes just a tad wider as slate blue met sky, and once again he was filled with a desire he often had. He didn't know what came over him, but one moment he was standing there, frozen, and the next he was grabbing Clark's shirt and pulling the man in. If he couldn't get the words out, maybe actions would work, maybe Bruce could just give in and-
-and kiss him.
Oh.
Oh.
That's what he wanted. That's what he wanted to talk to him about. And it was... so much nicer than he expected. Gentle. Much more than he expected it to be when it came to Bruce. Not in a bad way.
It took him a moment before he leaned into it, his hand going to Bruce's waist.
A moment he never wanted to end.
Bruce didn't want it to end either. He practically melted into the touch, his body leaning into Clark's until he was resting his weight firmly on the taller man. His arms draped loosely around Clark, a low hum leaving him. It was safe. It was warm. It was loving. It was gentle. Bruce was sure this was the greatest moment of his life.
This was heaven.
He only broke the kiss when he finally ran out of air, pulling back but still leaning into Clark. He leaned his head against Clark's shoulder, breathing heavier, but warm. For a moment he didn't know what to say.
Eventually, he lifted his head slightly, his voice coming out quiet. Almost faint. "Was that okay...?"
Clark smiled, resting his forehead against Bruce's.
"It was more than okay. It was wonderful."
His hand went to the man's cheek, gently caressing Bruce's cheek. "I was actually... pretty worried you didn't feel the same way about me."
A pause, then a sheepish chuckle.
"It sounds a little of ridiculous now that I say it aloud, though."
Bruce sighs. If he's going to do this, he has to do it now. He has a plan, kind of - of course he does, he's Batman, he always has a plan. But he knows, precisely because he's Batman, that plans rarely ever work out.
But this one is fairly simple. It should be fine. Right?
Dinner is finished, so once Alfred has cleared the table (with help, of course), he stands and sets a hand on the back of Clark's chair. He has to think for a moment.
"Thank you for coming to dinner," he starts with, because he can't just jump into this. "It was good to see you. Now, I believe I mentioned I wanted to talk about something after we ate?"
He's certain Clark can hear the way his heartbeat picks up speed, the slight increase in his breathing. He knows, of course he knows, he figured Clark out months ago, but he'd rather wait for Clark to tell him than say anything. He didn't want Clark to be put off or anxious enough about it to leave or stay away from him. He could wait. He could do this. He just hoped it would work.
Clark's head turned. Increased heart rate. Increased breathing. He noted it all. But was it a heart attack? It more than likely wasn't. Ridiculous, he knew. He adjusted his glasses, very briefly wiping his hands on his legs.
"Dinner's no issue, Mister Wayne. Er, Bruce," he sheepishly corrected himself. "And I do believe you wanted to speak to me about something."
Dear God. Was Bruce going to confront him about the whole Superman thing? Or worse, how it was extremely obvious based off how often he came to Gotham to speak to Bruce that the billionaire knew how he felt about him, and then turn him away forever?
"I'm all ears."
Bruce couldn't help but smile a little at the slip, a soft laugh escaping - god, Clark could be so sweet and cute sometimes. "As I've said, Bruce is just fine, Clark. We've talked far too much outside of work to be using last names." Clark seemed nervous, so he reached out and set a hand on the man's shoulder. It wasn't something he did often, considering that Clark was taller than him. "Relax. It's nothing horrible, I promise."
Relax. What a funny word to use, when he was so anxious himself.
He pulled Clark's chair back and waited for the man to stand, holding out a hand for Clark to take. "I thought you'd be more busy on Valentine's. But it's always nice to see you." He paused for a moment. "There's something I'd like to show you, if you don't mind staying for a bit longer."
"Me? Busy on Valentine's?" Clark chuckled, almost as the assumption was amusing to him. "You're funny, Bruce." He took Bruce's hand as he stood. "I don't mind staying any longer. There's no immediate demand for my return. I made sure to finish everything before I left."
Holding Bruce's hand was an experience he did not think he'd ever get to have. One that, if this was the only time he could ever do so, he would not be forgetting.
He took a deep breath. He felt jittery. He needed to calm down.
"Lead the way, Bruce."
"Well, I can't see why you wouldn't be. Surely there are people who would love to spend the day with you." Me included, Bruce thought, but didn't voice it. "You're very pleasant to be around. Kind. I'm surprised no one has taken you off the market yet." He sharpened his smile just slightly - that tease he used when he was in public, playing up the whole "playboy" persona. If it was more genuine now, no one needed to know.
His grip on Clark's hand tightened, and he turned, glancing around. "It's just down the hall. I'll try not to keep you too long. I'm sure you'd prefer getting home to sleep." He knew Clark didn't really need to sleep, but he wasn't supposed to. No letting anything on quite yet.
He led Clark out of the dining room and down a hallway, each step seeming to take far too much effort. He knew his heart was speeding up again, beating so fast in his chest he felt like it might burst. Somehow, this was almost worse than the actual confession. If Clark was upset at this, then Bruce would lose him completely.
He stopped at a door. From the outside it looked like any other, but as he pulled a special key from his pocket, it became clear it wasn't. The door unlocked with a hydraulic sound, and beyond was a keypad that Bruce quickly entered a code into. Beyond that was a long, dark flight of stairs. The entrance to the Batcave.
He swallowed and turned to look at Clark again. "It's shorter than it looks," he said, almost joking, trying to get rid of some of the tension - more his own than Clark's. He took a step down. There was a faint light at the bottom. "It's nothing nefarious, I promise." He tugged just slightly on Clark's hand, encouraging him to follow - because what would Bruce do if Clark didn't?
"If you... say so." Clark warily looked down the dark hallway, following him.
The further they went, the more Clark pieced it together. He didn't know how her didn't before.
"Goodness, Bruce. You... You're..." He fumbled for the words. "Oh, golly."
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, the main room of the cave was visible. It would have been obvious anyway, but Clark had seen bits and pieces through Justice League calls.
Bruce swallowed again. Somehow it was harder to speak now that Clark knew. "Yeah," he eventually managed, voice a little quieter, fainter. He looked over at Clark, trying to study his face, trying to gauge his reaction. His heart is still pounding, there's a pressure in his chest, but he knows how to ignore it. "I didn't... I didn't know how to tell you. I thought just showing you might be easier."
He didn't know if it was.
"You're... you're Batman, Bruce. I can tell why it'd be hard for you to... um. Say it." Clark managed. "I... wow. This is a lot to take in."
Looking around the cave, he took a breath in. "I just... wow."
His thumb ran over Bruce's hand. He still hadn't let go.
"I'm... I'm honored you trust me enough to tell me this, Bruce."
"Of course I trust you," Bruce said, and he almost regretted it - he wasn't supposed to know Clark's secret yet. There was no reason for Bruce Wayne to trust a random reporter so deeply, even if they were friends. But it was true even without the secret, honestly - there was something about Clark that just put Bruce at ease.
He was like sunshine. Bruce looked at him and felt like as long as he was there, everything would be okay. It wouldn't be a lie to say that being at Clark's side was the safest he'd felt in years, even before he figured out who he was.
He managed a small smile. Something in him relaxed. His heart was still racing, but for an entirely different reason this time. "There... There is one other thing I'd like to talk to you about. But if there's anything you'd like to say first..." He could only imagine what Clark was thinking about, especially with how Superman and Batman usually interacted.
He did have something to say. He knew he had something to say.
"Since you... trust me this much, I suppose I... should tell you as well." Clark cleared his throat. His free hand went to his glasses. He considered just taking them off. His hand twitched, finally grabbing the temple of his glasses, lowering them off his face.
"... I suppose I'm... not quite much of who you thought I was, either."
Bruce paused, and then his smile grew, and he stepped a little closer. There was something about the moment, seeing Clark with the glasses off, revealing himself... It made something warm build in his chest. "Ah." And then there was a little of that tease in his voice again, smile sharpening. Batman couldn't exactly save Bruce Wayne, after all, which meant if something happened while he was out as Bruce... Well, a certain hero would have to swoop in. "It's nice to finally know you, Mister Superman."
His smile softened again, as did his eyes - something more vulnerable, more open. "... Though, I'm not as surprised as you might think. I... I prepare for a lot of eventualities. Including people trying to mask their appearance." But it still felt so nice for it to be true this time. For Clark to show him, for himself. Bruce's chest felt paradoxically both heavy and light, a mix of happiness and nerves. "But... I'm glad you trust me, too. We've worked together for so long, I know how I act, but... You are my friend."
Maybe more.
Bruce shook his head slightly, more at himself than anything. He still had to get there. "I hope you know I don't mind as much as I complain about." He had always been a bit standoffish as Batman, often complaining or denying the friendly, affectionate gestures from Superman. But he did actually enjoy them, he just had an image as Batman - it was important to keep that, so there wouldn't be any suspicion. And there were things that he didn't enjoy... If it wasn't Clark doing them. He always liked it with Clark.
"I suppose it's better for us to know this about each other than not." Clark chuckled. "It's better to be open about this. I think... I think it'd make us better people. Better partners."
Possibly more.
"You had something else to tell me?"
He was more nervous. One, it wasn't the whole Superman thing. But now? Now he had no clue what it was about. It freaked him out. Maybe he knew. Maybe he knew Clark had fallen for him, and after this moment, everything would go downhill. But... Bruce wouldn't have told him about this if he was planning to push him away. He was making things up in his head.
Bruce took a breath. He could feel his heart beating faster once more, just after he'd started to calm. He knew Clark could hear it, and that wasn't a secret anymore. But for a moment he was frozen, unsure of how to do this. He couldn't find the words, his tongue felt frozen - he didn't know what to say. Would it be better to just say it? To try and ease into it before confessing?
"I-" He tried to speak, but only gave a few false starts; the words wouldn't come. He looked at Clark, eyes just a tad wider as slate blue met sky, and once again he was filled with a desire he often had. He didn't know what came over him, but one moment he was standing there, frozen, and the next he was grabbing Clark's shirt and pulling the man in. If he couldn't get the words out, maybe actions would work, maybe Bruce could just give in and-
-and kiss him.
Oh.
Oh.
That's what he wanted. That's what he wanted to talk to him about. And it was... so much nicer than he expected. Gentle. Much more than he expected it to be when it came to Bruce. Not in a bad way.
It took him a moment before he leaned into it, his hand going to Bruce's waist.
A moment he never wanted to end.
Bruce sighs. If he's going to do this, he has to do it now. He has a plan, kind of - of course he does, he's Batman, he always has a plan. But he knows, precisely because he's Batman, that plans rarely ever work out.
But this one is fairly simple. It should be fine. Right?
Dinner is finished, so once Alfred has cleared the table (with help, of course), he stands and sets a hand on the back of Clark's chair. He has to think for a moment.
"Thank you for coming to dinner," he starts with, because he can't just jump into this. "It was good to see you. Now, I believe I mentioned I wanted to talk about something after we ate?"
He's certain Clark can hear the way his heartbeat picks up speed, the slight increase in his breathing. He knows, of course he knows, he figured Clark out months ago, but he'd rather wait for Clark to tell him than say anything. He didn't want Clark to be put off or anxious enough about it to leave or stay away from him. He could wait. He could do this. He just hoped it would work.
Clark's head turned. Increased heart rate. Increased breathing. He noted it all. But was it a heart attack? It more than likely wasn't. Ridiculous, he knew. He adjusted his glasses, very briefly wiping his hands on his legs.
"Dinner's no issue, Mister Wayne. Er, Bruce," he sheepishly corrected himself. "And I do believe you wanted to speak to me about something."
Dear God. Was Bruce going to confront him about the whole Superman thing? Or worse, how it was extremely obvious based off how often he came to Gotham to speak to Bruce that the billionaire knew how he felt about him, and then turn him away forever?
"I'm all ears."
Bruce couldn't help but smile a little at the slip, a soft laugh escaping - god, Clark could be so sweet and cute sometimes. "As I've said, Bruce is just fine, Clark. We've talked far too much outside of work to be using last names." Clark seemed nervous, so he reached out and set a hand on the man's shoulder. It wasn't something he did often, considering that Clark was taller than him. "Relax. It's nothing horrible, I promise."
Relax. What a funny word to use, when he was so anxious himself.
He pulled Clark's chair back and waited for the man to stand, holding out a hand for Clark to take. "I thought you'd be more busy on Valentine's. But it's always nice to see you." He paused for a moment. "There's something I'd like to show you, if you don't mind staying for a bit longer."
"Me? Busy on Valentine's?" Clark chuckled, almost as the assumption was amusing to him. "You're funny, Bruce." He took Bruce's hand as he stood. "I don't mind staying any longer. There's no immediate demand for my return. I made sure to finish everything before I left."
Holding Bruce's hand was an experience he did not think he'd ever get to have. One that, if this was the only time he could ever do so, he would not be forgetting.
He took a deep breath. He felt jittery. He needed to calm down.
"Lead the way, Bruce."
"Well, I can't see why you wouldn't be. Surely there are people who would love to spend the day with you." Me included, Bruce thought, but didn't voice it. "You're very pleasant to be around. Kind. I'm surprised no one has taken you off the market yet." He sharpened his smile just slightly - that tease he used when he was in public, playing up the whole "playboy" persona. If it was more genuine now, no one needed to know.
His grip on Clark's hand tightened, and he turned, glancing around. "It's just down the hall. I'll try not to keep you too long. I'm sure you'd prefer getting home to sleep." He knew Clark didn't really need to sleep, but he wasn't supposed to. No letting anything on quite yet.
He led Clark out of the dining room and down a hallway, each step seeming to take far too much effort. He knew his heart was speeding up again, beating so fast in his chest he felt like it might burst. Somehow, this was almost worse than the actual confession. If Clark was upset at this, then Bruce would lose him completely.
He stopped at a door. From the outside it looked like any other, but as he pulled a special key from his pocket, it became clear it wasn't. The door unlocked with a hydraulic sound, and beyond was a keypad that Bruce quickly entered a code into. Beyond that was a long, dark flight of stairs. The entrance to the Batcave.
He swallowed and turned to look at Clark again. "It's shorter than it looks," he said, almost joking, trying to get rid of some of the tension - more his own than Clark's. He took a step down. There was a faint light at the bottom. "It's nothing nefarious, I promise." He tugged just slightly on Clark's hand, encouraging him to follow - because what would Bruce do if Clark didn't?
"If you... say so." Clark warily looked down the dark hallway, following him.
The further they went, the more Clark pieced it together. He didn't know how her didn't before.
"Goodness, Bruce. You... You're..." He fumbled for the words. "Oh, golly."
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, the main room of the cave was visible. It would have been obvious anyway, but Clark had seen bits and pieces through Justice League calls.
Bruce swallowed again. Somehow it was harder to speak now that Clark knew. "Yeah," he eventually managed, voice a little quieter, fainter. He looked over at Clark, trying to study his face, trying to gauge his reaction. His heart is still pounding, there's a pressure in his chest, but he knows how to ignore it. "I didn't... I didn't know how to tell you. I thought just showing you might be easier."
He didn't know if it was.
"You're... you're Batman, Bruce. I can tell why it'd be hard for you to... um. Say it." Clark managed. "I... wow. This is a lot to take in."
Looking around the cave, he took a breath in. "I just... wow."
His thumb ran over Bruce's hand. He still hadn't let go.
"I'm... I'm honored you trust me enough to tell me this, Bruce."
"Of course I trust you," Bruce said, and he almost regretted it - he wasn't supposed to know Clark's secret yet. There was no reason for Bruce Wayne to trust a random reporter so deeply, even if they were friends. But it was true even without the secret, honestly - there was something about Clark that just put Bruce at ease.
He was like sunshine. Bruce looked at him and felt like as long as he was there, everything would be okay. It wouldn't be a lie to say that being at Clark's side was the safest he'd felt in years, even before he figured out who he was.
He managed a small smile. Something in him relaxed. His heart was still racing, but for an entirely different reason this time. "There... There is one other thing I'd like to talk to you about. But if there's anything you'd like to say first..." He could only imagine what Clark was thinking about, especially with how Superman and Batman usually interacted.
He did have something to say. He knew he had something to say.
"Since you... trust me this much, I suppose I... should tell you as well." Clark cleared his throat. His free hand went to his glasses. He considered just taking them off. His hand twitched, finally grabbing the temple of his glasses, lowering them off his face.
"... I suppose I'm... not quite much of who you thought I was, either."
Bruce paused, and then his smile grew, and he stepped a little closer. There was something about the moment, seeing Clark with the glasses off, revealing himself... It made something warm build in his chest. "Ah." And then there was a little of that tease in his voice again, smile sharpening. Batman couldn't exactly save Bruce Wayne, after all, which meant if something happened while he was out as Bruce... Well, a certain hero would have to swoop in. "It's nice to finally know you, Mister Superman."
His smile softened again, as did his eyes - something more vulnerable, more open. "... Though, I'm not as surprised as you might think. I... I prepare for a lot of eventualities. Including people trying to mask their appearance." But it still felt so nice for it to be true this time. For Clark to show him, for himself. Bruce's chest felt paradoxically both heavy and light, a mix of happiness and nerves. "But... I'm glad you trust me, too. We've worked together for so long, I know how I act, but... You are my friend."
Maybe more.
Bruce shook his head slightly, more at himself than anything. He still had to get there. "I hope you know I don't mind as much as I complain about." He had always been a bit standoffish as Batman, often complaining or denying the friendly, affectionate gestures from Superman. But he did actually enjoy them, he just had an image as Batman - it was important to keep that, so there wouldn't be any suspicion. And there were things that he didn't enjoy... If it wasn't Clark doing them. He always liked it with Clark.
"I suppose it's better for us to know this about each other than not." Clark chuckled. "It's better to be open about this. I think... I think it'd make us better people. Better partners."
Possibly more.
"You had something else to tell me?"
He was more nervous. One, it wasn't the whole Superman thing. But now? Now he had no clue what it was about. It freaked him out. Maybe he knew. Maybe he knew Clark had fallen for him, and after this moment, everything would go downhill. But... Bruce wouldn't have told him about this if he was planning to push him away. He was making things up in his head.
Bruce sighs. If he's going to do this, he has to do it now. He has a plan, kind of - of course he does, he's Batman, he always has a plan. But he knows, precisely because he's Batman, that plans rarely ever work out.
But this one is fairly simple. It should be fine. Right?
Dinner is finished, so once Alfred has cleared the table (with help, of course), he stands and sets a hand on the back of Clark's chair. He has to think for a moment.
"Thank you for coming to dinner," he starts with, because he can't just jump into this. "It was good to see you. Now, I believe I mentioned I wanted to talk about something after we ate?"
He's certain Clark can hear the way his heartbeat picks up speed, the slight increase in his breathing. He knows, of course he knows, he figured Clark out months ago, but he'd rather wait for Clark to tell him than say anything. He didn't want Clark to be put off or anxious enough about it to leave or stay away from him. He could wait. He could do this. He just hoped it would work.
Clark's head turned. Increased heart rate. Increased breathing. He noted it all. But was it a heart attack? It more than likely wasn't. Ridiculous, he knew. He adjusted his glasses, very briefly wiping his hands on his legs.
"Dinner's no issue, Mister Wayne. Er, Bruce," he sheepishly corrected himself. "And I do believe you wanted to speak to me about something."
Dear God. Was Bruce going to confront him about the whole Superman thing? Or worse, how it was extremely obvious based off how often he came to Gotham to speak to Bruce that the billionaire knew how he felt about him, and then turn him away forever?
"I'm all ears."
Bruce couldn't help but smile a little at the slip, a soft laugh escaping - god, Clark could be so sweet and cute sometimes. "As I've said, Bruce is just fine, Clark. We've talked far too much outside of work to be using last names." Clark seemed nervous, so he reached out and set a hand on the man's shoulder. It wasn't something he did often, considering that Clark was taller than him. "Relax. It's nothing horrible, I promise."
Relax. What a funny word to use, when he was so anxious himself.
He pulled Clark's chair back and waited for the man to stand, holding out a hand for Clark to take. "I thought you'd be more busy on Valentine's. But it's always nice to see you." He paused for a moment. "There's something I'd like to show you, if you don't mind staying for a bit longer."
"Me? Busy on Valentine's?" Clark chuckled, almost as the assumption was amusing to him. "You're funny, Bruce." He took Bruce's hand as he stood. "I don't mind staying any longer. There's no immediate demand for my return. I made sure to finish everything before I left."
Holding Bruce's hand was an experience he did not think he'd ever get to have. One that, if this was the only time he could ever do so, he would not be forgetting.
He took a deep breath. He felt jittery. He needed to calm down.
"Lead the way, Bruce."
"Well, I can't see why you wouldn't be. Surely there are people who would love to spend the day with you." Me included, Bruce thought, but didn't voice it. "You're very pleasant to be around. Kind. I'm surprised no one has taken you off the market yet." He sharpened his smile just slightly - that tease he used when he was in public, playing up the whole "playboy" persona. If it was more genuine now, no one needed to know.
His grip on Clark's hand tightened, and he turned, glancing around. "It's just down the hall. I'll try not to keep you too long. I'm sure you'd prefer getting home to sleep." He knew Clark didn't really need to sleep, but he wasn't supposed to. No letting anything on quite yet.
He led Clark out of the dining room and down a hallway, each step seeming to take far too much effort. He knew his heart was speeding up again, beating so fast in his chest he felt like it might burst. Somehow, this was almost worse than the actual confession. If Clark was upset at this, then Bruce would lose him completely.
He stopped at a door. From the outside it looked like any other, but as he pulled a special key from his pocket, it became clear it wasn't. The door unlocked with a hydraulic sound, and beyond was a keypad that Bruce quickly entered a code into. Beyond that was a long, dark flight of stairs. The entrance to the Batcave.
He swallowed and turned to look at Clark again. "It's shorter than it looks," he said, almost joking, trying to get rid of some of the tension - more his own than Clark's. He took a step down. There was a faint light at the bottom. "It's nothing nefarious, I promise." He tugged just slightly on Clark's hand, encouraging him to follow - because what would Bruce do if Clark didn't?
"If you... say so." Clark warily looked down the dark hallway, following him.
The further they went, the more Clark pieced it together. He didn't know how her didn't before.
"Goodness, Bruce. You... You're..." He fumbled for the words. "Oh, golly."
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, the main room of the cave was visible. It would have been obvious anyway, but Clark had seen bits and pieces through Justice League calls.
Bruce swallowed again. Somehow it was harder to speak now that Clark knew. "Yeah," he eventually managed, voice a little quieter, fainter. He looked over at Clark, trying to study his face, trying to gauge his reaction. His heart is still pounding, there's a pressure in his chest, but he knows how to ignore it. "I didn't... I didn't know how to tell you. I thought just showing you might be easier."
He didn't know if it was.
"You're... you're Batman, Bruce. I can tell why it'd be hard for you to... um. Say it." Clark managed. "I... wow. This is a lot to take in."
Looking around the cave, he took a breath in. "I just... wow."
His thumb ran over Bruce's hand. He still hadn't let go.
"I'm... I'm honored you trust me enough to tell me this, Bruce."
"Of course I trust you," Bruce said, and he almost regretted it - he wasn't supposed to know Clark's secret yet. There was no reason for Bruce Wayne to trust a random reporter so deeply, even if they were friends. But it was true even without the secret, honestly - there was something about Clark that just put Bruce at ease.
He was like sunshine. Bruce looked at him and felt like as long as he was there, everything would be okay. It wouldn't be a lie to say that being at Clark's side was the safest he'd felt in years, even before he figured out who he was.
He managed a small smile. Something in him relaxed. His heart was still racing, but for an entirely different reason this time. "There... There is one other thing I'd like to talk to you about. But if there's anything you'd like to say first..." He could only imagine what Clark was thinking about, especially with how Superman and Batman usually interacted.
He did have something to say. He knew he had something to say.
"Since you... trust me this much, I suppose I... should tell you as well." Clark cleared his throat. His free hand went to his glasses. He considered just taking them off. His hand twitched, finally grabbing the temple of his glasses, lowering them off his face.
"... I suppose I'm... not quite much of who you thought I was, either."
Bruce sighs. If he's going to do this, he has to do it now. He has a plan, kind of - of course he does, he's Batman, he always has a plan. But he knows, precisely because he's Batman, that plans rarely ever work out.
But this one is fairly simple. It should be fine. Right?
Dinner is finished, so once Alfred has cleared the table (with help, of course), he stands and sets a hand on the back of Clark's chair. He has to think for a moment.
"Thank you for coming to dinner," he starts with, because he can't just jump into this. "It was good to see you. Now, I believe I mentioned I wanted to talk about something after we ate?"
He's certain Clark can hear the way his heartbeat picks up speed, the slight increase in his breathing. He knows, of course he knows, he figured Clark out months ago, but he'd rather wait for Clark to tell him than say anything. He didn't want Clark to be put off or anxious enough about it to leave or stay away from him. He could wait. He could do this. He just hoped it would work.
Clark's head turned. Increased heart rate. Increased breathing. He noted it all. But was it a heart attack? It more than likely wasn't. Ridiculous, he knew. He adjusted his glasses, very briefly wiping his hands on his legs.
"Dinner's no issue, Mister Wayne. Er, Bruce," he sheepishly corrected himself. "And I do believe you wanted to speak to me about something."
Dear God. Was Bruce going to confront him about the whole Superman thing? Or worse, how it was extremely obvious based off how often he came to Gotham to speak to Bruce that the billionaire knew how he felt about him, and then turn him away forever?
"I'm all ears."
Bruce couldn't help but smile a little at the slip, a soft laugh escaping - god, Clark could be so sweet and cute sometimes. "As I've said, Bruce is just fine, Clark. We've talked far too much outside of work to be using last names." Clark seemed nervous, so he reached out and set a hand on the man's shoulder. It wasn't something he did often, considering that Clark was taller than him. "Relax. It's nothing horrible, I promise."
Relax. What a funny word to use, when he was so anxious himself.
He pulled Clark's chair back and waited for the man to stand, holding out a hand for Clark to take. "I thought you'd be more busy on Valentine's. But it's always nice to see you." He paused for a moment. "There's something I'd like to show you, if you don't mind staying for a bit longer."
"Me? Busy on Valentine's?" Clark chuckled, almost as the assumption was amusing to him. "You're funny, Bruce." He took Bruce's hand as he stood. "I don't mind staying any longer. There's no immediate demand for my return. I made sure to finish everything before I left."
Holding Bruce's hand was an experience he did not think he'd ever get to have. One that, if this was the only time he could ever do so, he would not be forgetting.
He took a deep breath. He felt jittery. He needed to calm down.
"Lead the way, Bruce."
"Well, I can't see why you wouldn't be. Surely there are people who would love to spend the day with you." Me included, Bruce thought, but didn't voice it. "You're very pleasant to be around. Kind. I'm surprised no one has taken you off the market yet." He sharpened his smile just slightly - that tease he used when he was in public, playing up the whole "playboy" persona. If it was more genuine now, no one needed to know.
His grip on Clark's hand tightened, and he turned, glancing around. "It's just down the hall. I'll try not to keep you too long. I'm sure you'd prefer getting home to sleep." He knew Clark didn't really need to sleep, but he wasn't supposed to. No letting anything on quite yet.
He led Clark out of the dining room and down a hallway, each step seeming to take far too much effort. He knew his heart was speeding up again, beating so fast in his chest he felt like it might burst. Somehow, this was almost worse than the actual confession. If Clark was upset at this, then Bruce would lose him completely.
He stopped at a door. From the outside it looked like any other, but as he pulled a special key from his pocket, it became clear it wasn't. The door unlocked with a hydraulic sound, and beyond was a keypad that Bruce quickly entered a code into. Beyond that was a long, dark flight of stairs. The entrance to the Batcave.
He swallowed and turned to look at Clark again. "It's shorter than it looks," he said, almost joking, trying to get rid of some of the tension - more his own than Clark's. He took a step down. There was a faint light at the bottom. "It's nothing nefarious, I promise." He tugged just slightly on Clark's hand, encouraging him to follow - because what would Bruce do if Clark didn't?
"If you... say so." Clark warily looked down the dark hallway, following him.
The further they went, the more Clark pieced it together. He didn't know how her didn't before.
"Goodness, Bruce. You... You're..." He fumbled for the words. "Oh, golly."
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, the main room of the cave was visible. It would have been obvious anyway, but Clark had seen bits and pieces through Justice League calls.
Bruce swallowed again. Somehow it was harder to speak now that Clark knew. "Yeah," he eventually managed, voice a little quieter, fainter. He looked over at Clark, trying to study his face, trying to gauge his reaction. His heart is still pounding, there's a pressure in his chest, but he knows how to ignore it. "I didn't... I didn't know how to tell you. I thought just showing you might be easier."
He didn't know if it was.
"You're... you're Batman, Bruce. I can tell why it'd be hard for you to... um. Say it." Clark managed. "I... wow. This is a lot to take in."
Looking around the cave, he took a breath in. "I just... wow."
His thumb ran over Bruce's hand. He still hadn't let go.
"I'm... I'm honored you trust me enough to tell me this, Bruce."
// @brucie-wayne-offical mod here
I want you to know that in my head Bruce has the movable ears? Like if he had the cowl on the ears would be down right now because he's upset/nervous
And I feel like the expression carries over
Just. So you know :3
//THATS SO CUTE??? I LOVE THAT.OH MY GOD
